


A bunch of x readers. Please shame me.

by tefnutsTavern



Category: No Fandom
Genre: Multi
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-07-05
Updated: 2020-07-05
Packaged: 2021-03-04 18:01:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 2,783
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25090540
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tefnutsTavern/pseuds/tefnutsTavern
Summary: This is literally fucking terrifying. All of my worst works once saved in my Google docs, now put in one ao3 work. I have no words for myself. Please, if you're looking to be disgusted, read this. You will ULTIMATELY regret it.
Relationships: Barack Obama/Reader, Binx's Mom/Reader, Guy Fieri/Gordon Ramsay
Comments: 1
Kudos: 7





	1. Binx's Mom x Reader

You lay there, agony washing over you in waves.

Nothing was clicking within you.

You just, couldn’t comprehend your own mind right now. You searched around for something within you, that would satiate your hunger for the night. You’ve exhausted every possibility within your own mind, and you’d even scavenged through the Hub for something of sustenance, but the classic of Dick to Ass just wasn’t doing it for you. There was no fanfiction that could curb your frustration, your need to get off. You were strange this.. cold summer night.

You were nearing the point of putting your pants back on, going out of your smelly room for a block of cheese, when you’d gotten the idea: what if you exhausted another front of taboo? You’ve checked out anal, you’ve seen the feet, you’ve even entertained the thought of BDSM. You even got off to watching women squirt, and trying to convince yourself you wished you were… no. But then again... 

You threw your pants back down to the floor, and huffed, throwing yourself down onto the bed. You looked over to make sure your door was locked, so you would not have any unwanted guests, and then put a finger down to your clit, and closed your eyes. You let yourself relax, and allowed your imagination to do its worst.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You looked into her eyes as she was tied up; the mother of the boy you used to bully online. Though you didn’t call it bullying, however, you called it swift justice. You walked around her as your leather thigh high heels made awful noises, making Laura drool in anticipation. You snarkily chuckled, and played with your whip, lightly slapping it in your gloved hand. Her chains rattled as she pulled and moaned through her red ball gag, her hair down because you’d wanted to smell it while you tortured her private parts, as part of the process of humiliation and your own sick pleasure. Somehow, though, this felt right.

You whipped her side, and she squeaked as light as a mouse, welts forming on her leg and the inner thigh where the whip accidentally grazed. With the fading pleasurable pain and the dominating sneer you had possessed on your gaze, she whimpered a sloppy “More,” through the ball. Tsk, a masochist on your hands.

You throw the whip aside within your dungeon, and go behind, where her brown locks spilled across her back, grabbing a good handful and pulling back, gathering the scent through the awful purchase that was your gloves. Her shampoo was cheap dollar store shampoo, expected of a single mother of a boy who was problematic and hardly disciplined, having required a phone call for the deletion of social platforms. Then again, this was the woman of your dreams. You simply couldn’t go without skipping the pleasantries and just appreciating the smell of flowers and hair damaging chemicals.  
You’ve stood there for a bit, you soon realise, as you feel her tremble from in front of you. The chains began to turn you on again, so you let go of her hair and reach for her ass with one hand, give it a firm smack and grab, and with the other, you reach for a tit; you squeeze and flip your own hair from your warm mouth to bite her shoulder lightly, teasingly, almost a remark to both her sons neglect and her own. How long had she gone without punishment? Without a strong figure to hold her and make her see herself. You reach for your tool belt, and pull off a small, pink vibrator, set it to the lowest setting, and, before inserting it, lube her up.

She.. she does that fucking thing. That thing her son does. She turns her head round and round in circles with her mouth open and a hideous expression on her face. You take a step back, and wonder what monster you’ve created within your mindscape. You run for the walls of the dungeon, and bang against the walls, realising there is no door. This creature of hell breaks her chains, and comes for your ass, wailing and screaming, shaking her head faster and faster about how she is a polyamorous bi shipping transgender enby, and rattles her chains in front of you about how this is America. Of course, you aren’t at all offended by her identity. People are allowed to be who they are, regardless of mental state or camera quality. It was how she expressed this movement with such ferocity in her voice and head movements to be about her, and soon she made a demon pov in front of your very eyes. You cried, huddled, begging for forgiveness, as she romanticised a mental disorder, making the sociopath only fall in love when you are a “naughty naughty”. You cry and cry as these tik toks come flooding towards your peripheral, and you have to gather up the courage.

You scream. “YOU’RE CANCELLED, PLEASE, LEAVE ME ALONE! I DON'T WANT IT! NO!” and the rest of her body follows her head and spins in fury as it falls back into the place where she was chained, the chains lifting and fixing themselves, her form dissipating into the atmosphere of your.. Imagination. You walk over to where she was chained, once was, and you sigh. You pick up the shackle from the floor and cry in relief. The nightmare is over. You look up and wipe your tears, but stop. Laura is there, and her head is twisting around, like a shitty sfm animation. You crawl backwards, and whisper, “No.. please…” and she hops off the ceiling. She crawls towards you as you crawl away, and you’re sobbing now.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

You wake up with your hand on your clit and a sexuality straighter than a ruler. That’s the last time you involve yourself in social media bullying.


	2. Ramsay x Fieri

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's literally so fucking awful, why did I write this back then

There was a brief stillness in the bedroom. The bedroom had been free from heated, sweaty bodies pressed against each other, for at least a few hours. Two lovers, cosmically tied together thanks to two things: being very fucking gay and good food.  
They practically break the door off its hinges and tumble into the bed. Two contrasting personalities, working so lovely in sex, in life. Best friends, even, fate only connecting them thanks to a brief moment of “hey why not make this really shitty reality”  
The fire lit, Gordan Ramsay and Guy Fieri tangle limbs in the bed, Guy Fieri's fat body too heavy for him to top otherwise he would break Ramsay or his arms trying to do virtually anything. Think like, bee movie script, except this motherfucker is actually physically impossible. Only Gordon would take it, because he loves Guy and would spend millions on the hospital bill if only he could feel Guy take him over. Hot af love story but a horrible shitpost pairing.  
Gordon sucks on his hot lovers neck and is like, “Baby I fucking love you alright you’re going to be my baby hunka tuna truffle doodle 2nite” and leaves a hickey on his double chin, where everyone is sure to see. Guys not going to wear a scarf, that's sus. He’ll just tell his show director they were having steamy sex, and he’ll put foundation on it to make a weird light pale spot because his face is too red and jolly normally for him not to look weird while he is red everywhere else. People will think he has an std or recognise that it’s foundation, and honestly at this point he doesnt care it’s a fucking hickey. This fanfiction is a disaster. Why am I derailing about his red face? I don't even pay attention to him. Usually this is just a regular shitpost.  
Guy rips his shirt off his ripe body, and politely unbuttons Gordons to reveal gordons raging abs and hard nipples. 10 out of 10. They make out even more and Gordon rubs his body and hands against Guy’s hairy fucking gut and guy just moans. It’s not even hot, it just sounds like he’s in terrible pain, but this turns Gordon on: hes a fucking sadist.  
So like, Guy right, he’s so fuckin hot for Gordon. Unzips his pants and reveals one hot ass baguette slathered in butter and marinara. No introduction or anything, just, hey. There's a baguette in his pants. What the fuck, Guy? Gordon doesnt want any of our authour’s bullshit, he loves his very very very gay boyfriend. Next to the baguette is Guy’s raging erection.  
“Oh baby I love ur -5 incher” Gordon says as he chews the baguette, taking in all of its juicy saucy flavour, before he stops chewing on it, leaving a mangled tip of french delectibility, shame not even inching in his gut. It's like, wow, you had to do that? There's bite marks and slobber all over this shit. Honestly, even narrators desperate poor ass wouldn't even touch that, that's seriously unsanitary.  
Gordon rips the bag wet out of Guy’s pants and throws it against the wall. There's a wet slam, and the bread is on the wall. Guy struggles to roll over, and position himself on the edge of the bed so that he can have Gordon’s dirty penis slide down his throat (hint hint: he doesn't scrub the inside of his foreskin, not a pretty picture for a top chef who likes to cum in his food for flavour). Top chef is just like, “Baby, flavour town is here for you” and you hear a “REEEEEEEEEE” rumble from Fieri into the condo, vibrating the grimy apartment building. The roaches beg their fucking pardon.  
As slurping sounds emit from this jiggly wiggly son of a bitch as Gordon gets sucked off, Gordon lets out a war cry, all the grime buildup from within his peepee sliding merrily down his monster’s throat, both of them have an awful catharsis.  
This is beyond fucked up. Why did i have to do this? No wait, why did i? Tis the fuckin season i guess. This is so morbid i cannot fathom where this shit came from in my psyche. Hope my therapist has a ball with this lmao hes gonna be like “now then, this probably came from your strong desire to have a romantic relationship, but you think you know yourself so well that you assume there is no good lover for you, resorting to dirty smelly fuckin weirdos in your insecurities defense.”  
If i made this fanfiction any more detailed there probably would have been a riot. This is the first war crime of wwiii, no shit.


	3. Obbaka

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Obama x Reader. Be horrified. Or turned on. I don't care which, just please don't bother me about it; I don't want to know

“Mmf!” you let out as obama slammed into you.  
You were currently up against the wall, hands near where your face is, while your dress is pulled up to your stomach as the president, Barack Obama, shoved his cock into and out of you repeatedly. He was hitting all the right spots within you, and your moans were loud against the walls that he assured you were absolutely soundproof.  
Gosh, you loved your every session with him. He was always gentle at first, making sure you were okay with it that day. Caressing your face and rubbing your sides slowly was how it always went, him slowly bringing his lips to yours delicately and feverishly that one would suspect that he considered you a goddess. He would take your tongue into his mouth, and there was no fight for dominance. Simply, he tasted you, and you tasted him. It never got needy, until he groped your breast roughly and smiled cheekily into the kiss.  
Your hand would travel down to his pants, and you would give a firm squeeze, his pair of balls gladly curling collectively as he almost purred through that groan of his. The more you would do it over and over again, pushing his limits, until his groan was no longer that, and instead a growl as he would grab your ass and squeeze, pulling you up and making his tongue go down your throat, you feeling a type of love you could never name every single time this happened. The feelings were always strong every time.  
He would release the dragon like greedy grip on your ass and his hand would travel further down as his other hand used to rub your sides tenderly would instead lift up your dress naughtily. He would finger you, two fingers immediately, slowly, sure to get you worked up and wetter than ever. Then, it was almost animalistic, as he would roughly slam his palms against you to get his fingers up further. This was where the moans would start, and you would put your hands against his chest to try and steady yourself as he made you nearly squirt. His fingers were so fat, so satisfying. Then, he would sit on the chair and demand that you ride him, or even better, he would have you leaned against it and he would make you orgasm twice, thrice, sometimes even four times. Oh how you left the room sore.  
This time, though, he wasted no time. The moment the door shut, he kissed you roughly, and you two were slowly brought to the wall. As soon as your back hit the wall, he ripped his hand down and pulled up your dress to your breasts. You gasped as you felt the silk slide down to your belly button, and he brought his face down to your pussy.  
He licked sucked bit and kissed your clit, tongue going crazy and your moans simply being too out of your control for you to even bother trying to “fake” it. Not like you ever did, he just liked making you fucking breathless. You struggled to keep yourself up, and when your knees were about ready to give out, cum leaking, he stopped and got up quickly. He flipped you around, and brought his cock out, not even asking for permission, slamming into you.  
You moaned so loud you doubted that those visiting didnt hear you. He bit your shoulder as he went absolutely crazy inside of you. He was too big for this, you thought. His cock hit the very end of where you could take him, and it sent lightning bolts through you, making you shiver and whimper. Goodness, youve probably came twice this fast you naughty girl. Youre taking this in stride, not even complaining when he had his way with you absolutely.  
He flipped you around once more, shoved his cock in just as fast as it slid out, and kissed you rough on the lips, before ripping off your silk dress and bra, exposing your tits for him to do as he pleased. He grabbed at your nipples and licked your chest, abusing the power he had over you.  
You came a fourth time already, and you were so sore, you felt like you couldnt take anymore. It was too much post orgasm pleasure, but he didnt stop. He was growling gasping moaning and groaning, all at once, but there was no sign of him stopping. You dropped to the floor with a thud, and he went down too. He brought your ass up, your face down, your legs separated as he brought his chest down to your back while his cock slid in and out faster than before, huge heavy testicles slamming against your clit.   
“Oh mister Obama!!” You came a fifth time, like never before, and you screamed, unable to cover it with the chair, and he laughed breathlessly with how incredibly hopeless you were right now.  
He pulled out and spared you the rest of the embarrassment and pain, and got up, pulling you up by your hair to your knees to face him as he shoved his cock into your mouth, soaked with your cum and now with your spit. It went so easily down your tight throat, but you were gagging so badly that it made him cum after a few thrusts, liquid going down and making you horny all over again due to the smooth sensation in your throat that it caused. He pulled out, and just as he did another string of cum came out and it coated your lips. You licked them, hot and used, and tried to get up but you fell. You stayed there like that, wet, covered in your own cum, lying on the floor useless, legs bent and spread in strange directions, and your ripped dress exposing just how used you were. Obama laughed quickly at you, proud of his work.  
You pathetic slut. All done for by mister Barack Obama of the White House.

**Author's Note:**

> Share this with your friends if you want a good giggle.


End file.
